Jacqueline || BWWM

Chapter Eighteen

Be aware: this chapter gets a little more intense.

Good choice.

The little girl thinks as she watches the fire spreads across the hardwood at what looks like to be a hundred miles per hour. It circles the kitchen island and climbs the cabinets. Smoke fills the whole room in a matter of seconds, hiding the only fire free path.

The little girl's eyes blur at the scene in front of her, and her heart rate increases with each passing second. Smoke soon engulfs her every breath as it gets harder to breathe normally. Within just a few minutes, she's forced to settling on huffing and puffing, as she searches for any sight of light.

"Move to higher ground."

The little girl's brain shouts at her over and over, but her tiny body does nothing to obey the order. She's too dizzy. Following the fire as it circles everything does that to you.

I know I'm going to die.

She now realizes.

I'm going to die.

There will be no tomorrow for Jacqueline Stella Hathway.

Unsurprisingly, the thought scares her. It sends unpleasant chills down her body and makes her wish she'd done more, though that seems very much unlikely: at the young age of five, she's already done as much as time would allow.

The end is near.

She nods at the obvious thought or moves her head in what might be a nod.

Where are Mama and Papa?

Tears fall from her eyes at this. She'll never see her parents again. She'll never walk with mom to the Sunday market, or have her braid her hair as Daddy reads her a bedtime story. No one will kiss her cheek and whisper soothing things after a nightmare. They won't even be any more nightmares anymore. This is the end.

Distant shouts are heard, but the girl pays no attention to them as she crawls under the marble counter.

At the age of just five, she whispers what she knows as her last words. "Goodbye, world."

______

The question repeats itself over and over in my head until I uncousionly start mumbling it out loud. 

What feels like years, but I'm sure is just a couple of minutes, passes as the guy keeps violating me in pretty much every way possible while I stand as still as a rock.

A piece of me is aware of what's happening, but the part that does the clear thinking, the part that controls my movement, has sunk far too deep to help me. Drowning in the dead sea of the past, I consciously allow my body to blend the vivid memories of what happened previously with reality. Lin's screams of pain explode throughout my mind. They tear away at what little control I have like razor sharpe blades to thin paper. Sooner than a person can snap, I'm left with nothing. The only shell that anyone can do what they please with.

Mystery raper seems to have no problem with this. He continues feeling me up until he finally feels satisfied, or bored. I vaguely feel him take my shirt off moments later. His somewhat warm and sweaty hands take the place it once covered.